


Paths Diverge

by Eregyrn



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: (not outright non-con, But some Questionable Consent, Deliberately OOC elements consistent with the episode, Episode: s04e17 Absolute Power, M/M, Please proceed with caution if any form of that disturbs you), dubcon, somewhat dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 21:16:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14269689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eregyrn/pseuds/Eregyrn
Summary: Daniel has chosen his path; Jack chooses his.





	Paths Diverge

**Author's Note:**

> (As noted in the tags: because this is set during the episode "Absolute Power", there are some deliberately OOC elements and some dubious consent. This does not involve outright rape/non-con, which is why I didn't click that warning, but I wanted to note it for potential readers in case any hint of questionable consent is disturbing.)
> 
> Originally posted to LiveJournal in June 2006; written for LJ user iamrosalita in the 2006 Jack/Daniel Ficathon. Prompt: _Jack and Daniel break up, angst; they can get back together, or not._

_So, please – help me. Or leave._

Outside, a car door slammed. Then there was the sound of the front door closing, and Daniel’s voice calling, “Jack?”

It didn’t help Jack’s mood any to realize that he had lousy timing. He thought he’d be finished before Daniel came home. 

He didn’t answer the question – the _summons_ , really. There was enough of a hint of demand in Daniel’s tone for Jack to think that’s what it was. The house wasn’t that big. Daniel would figure it out soon enough. 

He went into the bathroom, held open a plastic grocery bag at the edge of the sink and swept things into it – razor, shaving cream, toothbrush, comb. He didn’t need to take the toothpaste or the shampoo, he still had some at home. Or he could pick up more, it didn’t matter.

When he heard Daniel call “Jack?” again, it was from close-by, the door of the bedroom. Jack hefted the bag, and looked up and met his own eyes in the mirror. Should have just walked away, he thought, left everything here. It was all replaceable. All except for one thing.

“Yes, Daniel?” he said, in his most level tone of voice, as he walked back into the master bedroom. 

“Jack, what’s going on?”

Daniel stood at the end of the bed, arms crossed – just crossed, not hugging himself in that way that used to be familiar. The frown on his face was mostly puzzled, rather than angry. Jack could at least still read his expression well enough to feel sure of that. 

He looked a whole lot less freaky dressed in civvies and _not_ wearing a hand-device. He was wearing his glasses, and Jack saw that with a kind of relief. Seeing Daniel staring, rapt, at the hand-device had been bad enough. Jack would really start to worry when Daniel stopped wearing his glasses. 

“Just following orders,” said Jack, with false heartiness, depositing the plastic bag inside the full duffle that sat on the bed. The zipper sounded unnaturally loud as he slid it shut.

“What? What orders?” Daniel asked, but again, there wasn’t just inquiry behind the words.

He could have fiddled with the duffle some more, but that wasn’t how he wanted this to go. Jack straightened and turned, facing still-frowning Daniel. “Leaving,” Jack told him, wondering for a moment if he’d even remember.

“You’re leaving?” Daniel looked as if what Jack had said was incomprehensible. Jack didn’t blame him for that, because it was. He couldn’t believe he was saying it, either.

“Yes, Daniel.” This time he let sarcasm edge the reply, a tone meant to tell the other man that this should be obvious. 

He and Daniel had used to be able to have entire conversations in nothing but tonally-inflected exchanges of each other’s names. He knew from experience that this response from him was guaranteed to irritate Daniel, who’d said in the past that he found it condescending. Which, Jack admitted, it was meant to be. 

Now Daniel reacted predictably. He was still frowning but his expression was no longer confused. “Why?” he demanded. “Because of what I said earlier? I meant for you to leave my _office_.”

“I know what you meant.” But their exchange in the SGC earlier had told Jack a lot more than he thought Daniel had meant to say. “And if you notice, I did what you asked. In fact, I’m doing both. I’m helping you. And I’m leaving.”

“Jack, you aren’t making any sense.” Daniel pinched the bridge of his nose, underneath the glasses. When he looked up, he was focused, intent; glaring. “How is this helping?”

“Daniel, look. You said it yourself, you have a lot going on.” With an effort, Jack made his voice reasonable again. He waved a hand, taking in the bedroom, the whole house, the one Daniel had rented to make room for Shifu. “Pretty soon, you’ll be moving into your big new place – we wouldn’t have been able to keep this going for much longer, anyway.”

Daniel’s eyebrows shot up. “Is that what this is about? You’re worried about being found out?”

“We’ve discussed this, Daniel.” Not very long ago, in fact. When this thing between them had started – or, to be honest, when this thing they’d had between them for years had taken its next, possibly inevitable step, and they became lovers in addition to friends. After the mission to the planet with all those unas, when Jack had come that close to losing Daniel _again_. When he’d made a decision about what was really important. “Unless you _want_ me to take that retirement option – “ 

“No!” said the other man, sharply. “I _want_ you leading the naquadah recovery operation. Look, if that’s all you’re worried about – “

“ _All?_ ” Jack’s voice rose in disbelief as Daniel gestured dismissively.

“—I’ll have a word with the Joint Chiefs then, with the president – idiotic regulations, anyway – “ 

“Daniel!” barked Jack, and finally got the man’s attention. He didn’t want to know if Daniel actually thought that all it would take was a word from him, and the United States military would completely rewrite its policies on homosexuality. Worse, he didn’t want to find out that it might actually be true. He knew what a hard-on the Pentagon had for the big guns that Daniel had promised. But, no – Daniel was valuable to them, but not _that_ valuable. Only in Daniel’s own head did he wield that much power. What scared Jack was the way the line seemed to be blurring for Daniel, how he seemed to think that they were all there living in the world inside his head, right along with him.

“What? Come on, Jack – you can’t tell me that isn’t what you want, too.”

There was a point, not very far in the past, when Daniel would have made that a question. 

“What I want…” 

Jack couldn’t say it – not without sounding like an idiot. He wanted that kid never to have shown up on Abydos. He wanted someone else to have been given the knowledge of the goa’uld. He wanted Daniel to be the voice of reason, of caution, when anyone from him to Hammond to the Joint Chiefs started talking about building weapons, about total war. He needed Daniel to be his opposite, his balance; the challenger who made him a better man.

But how stupid and selfish would that sound? Daniel had called him on it earlier and had neatly undercut Jack’s argument at the same time. He didn’t think that Daniel saying it made him a bad guy. He couldn’t imagine Daniel as a bad guy, was afraid even to try imagining it. It was just… 

Jack gave up on words. He crossed the distance between them in two steps, hands coming up to frame Daniel’s face and hold it still. The frown remained on Daniel’s face – an angry frown by now – and he didn’t relax his belligerent stance, not even when Jack angled his head and kissed him, hard. The crossed arms were still forcing a space between them, but after a moment Daniel relented to the mouth working on his, relaxing and letting Jack in. 

Jack kept pushing, teeth clashing with the other man’s, tongue invading, tasting aggressively, until the arms dropped and they were chest to chest, groin to groin. This was still new, still something he hadn’t grown used to, still amazing. He could feel Daniel growing hard against him, and Daniel’s hands came to rest on his hips, jerking him closer, at the same time starting to really battle him for control of the kiss. 

Just when that happened, Jack drew back, biting Daniel’s lower lip on the way. He had a glimpse of outrage in those blue eyes just before he reached up with one hand, and removed the glasses. That caused a flash of a smile to come and go on Daniel’s face; Jack tossed the glasses carefully at the top of the dresser behind him. Early on in their… relationship, Daniel might have protested that, might have scolded him for it.. This Daniel didn’t seem to notice. His expression was smug, already satisfied, as if he’d won something, and his eyes were fixed on Jack’s mouth. Hands moved from their bruising grip on his hips, up under his shirt, and started to work on his pants. “Yes, Jack, I know what you want.” He sounded indulgent.

Once they would have sparred verbally through foreplay, arguing, baiting, teasing. That had been a kind of foreplay, too – the kind they’d been engaged in for years before actually sleeping together. Jack had enjoyed it, because in the bedroom, it was always fun, never heavy, never angry, never life-or-death. He knew what he ought to answer now, knew what his next line in the script should be. He ignored his cue, and slid a hand around the back of Daniel’s neck, pulling him in again for another bruising kiss.

Daniel nipped his tongue, making Jack jerk backwards. He stared into Daniel’s eyes from inches away. Daniel looked amused, now. “If you don’t take off your shoes, we’re not going to get anywhere.”

Jack toed off his shoes, and Daniel quickly undid his own belt and shoved his pants down; they came off along with his shoes and his socks, and then he was pulling his sweater off over his head. Stripping each other seemed to be off the menu, so Jack got his pants and his boxers off himself, and started to work on his shirt’s buttons. This wasn’t what he’d been trying to say – but this was what he wanted, sure. One of the things he wanted. That also hadn't changed. It would have been easier if it had.

Daniel’s fingers closed around his on the third button down. “I’ve got it,” he whispered.

Jack let him, taking his turn to run his hands down Daniel’s sides, his flanks. Daniel nudged him, slowly but insistently, erection poking him in the hip. He felt the bed behind his calves and then Daniel was pushing, parting his unbuttoned shirt and pushing it halfway down his arms so they were trapped as he fell, Daniel landing on top of him. He didn’t have time to think about that because Daniel was pressing his advantage, pinning him down, mouth fastening on his collarbone… _biting_. Jack arched beneath the touch, heaving against the other man’s weight.

“You think we could move this all the way onto the bed?” he suggested, when he had control of his voice again.

Daniel rested his elbow beside Jack's head, raising himself up. Jack lay there, legs half-hanging over the end of the bed in a way that was going to become really uncomfortable if he kept it up much longer, and studied the man who was his friend, who only a short time ago had become his lover. Daniel stared down at Jack for a moment too long, his expression fierce and intent and… vacant; looking into his eyes Jack had the unsettling feeling of being stared _through_. He had no idea what Daniel was seeing, but he didn't think it was him. 

"All right," Daniel said, finally, rolling off to the side. Again, there came that flash of smile. "Grab the lube while you're up there."

Jack struggled for a moment, hitching himself up, which wasn't easy the way his shirt was still tangled around his arms. He managed to push himself up the bed and then rolled over to reach across to the nightstand. The shirt constricted his reach, and impatiently he tried to shake one arm out of it – but Daniel covered him again, weight settling across his back, as he reached past Jack easily and opened the nightstand drawer himself. 

"You're slow," said Daniel, in his ear. 

The way Daniel was lying on top of him, he couldn’t get any leverage. The way his arms were held at his side by the shirt, he couldn’t support himself; his face was mashed uncomfortably into the mattress. He strained his neck to look back over his shoulder, and said pointedly, “I’d kind of like to lose the shirt, Daniel.”

“Really?” Daniel’s weight shifted again as he pushed himself into a kneeling position. The feeling of constriction increased as he pulled back on the shirt’s collar, tightening it, forcing Jack’s arms up and back. “What a shame.” 

He spoke in a drawl that Jack normally thought of as teasing, and normally Jack wouldn’t have minded having a mock-argument about whether he was up for some light bondage, but… a recollection of the look in Daniel’s eyes earlier, in his office, made him shudder, and suddenly he didn’t like the idea so much, not even to joke about. 

“Daniel –“ he started, warningly, but even before he’d made a sound, the other man had released his grip and was helping to ease the sleeve off of one arm. 

Still, for the first time, Jack thought this might actually be a bad idea. 

At least, one part of him did. That would be the part not connected to his dick, though, because that part was _definitely_ with the program. 

Daniel didn’t bother with the second sleeve. As soon as Jack’s arms were basically freed, he shoved the shirt to one side and replaced it with his body, draping over Jack’s back. He heard the snap of the lube’s cap as a knee shoved against the inside of his own. So, he’d be bottoming, apparently, he thought; what a surprise. Even inside his own head, he was sarcastic.

Daniel’s erection, hot and heavy, was pressing into his inner thigh. He tried to shift his legs a little wider; it was no use trying to raise his hips until Daniel wasn’t lying on top of them. His knees wouldn’t take that, anyway. Daniel’s mouth was worrying at his neck, working up towards his ear. There was a splash of something cool across his ass, some of the lube ending up in more or less the right place. Daniel’s hand, which felt as burning hot as his dick, kneaded his ass briefly before moving down between his legs, smearing the lube until he could rub it down around the hole.

Jack was mostly concentrated on a couple of obvious things – the teeth in his earlobe, his own aching hardness pressed against the weave of the bedspread. They’d done this enough times that he was expecting Daniel’s fingers next, and a lot more lube. The first time they’d tried it they’d used practically half the bottle, and Jack had wondered if they sold the stuff in extra-jumbo-sized, because it looked like they might need it…

The only warning he got was another shift of Daniel’s weight, and a blunt probing, and then Daniel was shoving right in, his mouth leaving Jack’s ear to grunt explosively with the effort. 

The invasion was sudden, and burning, and Jack shouted “Aah!” quickly followed by a more coherent “What the _fuck_?” Daniel felt huge inside him, and it hurt enough that he wondered if he’d been torn. His entire body tensed, but Daniel was already in. 

“Exactly, Jack,” Daniel breathed over him, and dammit if the little shit didn’t sound amused. 

“Jesus _Christ_ , Daniel –“ he started, and then Daniel _moved_. His hands planted on either side of Jack’s head, he raised himself up slightly and drew out, then thrust back in, deeper, if that was possible. “ _God_ …”

“Work with me, Jack.” It sounded like it was an effort for Daniel to speak.

“ _Work_ with you? Work _with_ you?” Jack demanded. “ _Now_ you ask?” But, no, he thought. That wasn’t asking, either.

The next slide and thrust was a little easier to take; he was adjusting. He’d lost his own hard-on, no surprise – but then Daniel leaned down, and shoved his arm underneath Jack’s body, forearm pressing back and up on his hips, and when he thrust again the angle was changed and – “Oh, yeah,” said Jack, remembering this. 

The burn was still there – Jack wondered how much Daniel had lubed himself up, if at all – but the head of Daniel’s dick hitting that sweet spot, that was making up for it. A little.

Daniel’s arm held him in place, and gave him room to reach under and try to stroke himself back into hardness. Daniel was really going at it now, thrusting with short, hard jabs, and thank god, still hitting the prostate. Daniel muttered something, not in English, although Jack recognized his own name somewhere in there. It might have been Abydonian. He had a bad feeling that it might not be.

Jack was at least hard again when Daniel came, suddenly, stifling his moan by dropping his head down to bite Jack’s shoulder. Then he moved his head, his breath gusting hot against the back of Jack’s neck. Jack could feel him growing soft within as his own long, sure strokes on his dick finally got him off as well. 

Jack’s body tightening around him in orgasm pulled another moan from Daniel, and he rolled away, withdrawing abruptly, but at least it was while Jack was still coming so it felt pretty good. Christ, but he was going to be sore later, he thought, and it was that surge of annoyance that didn’t allow him to collapse in a sated heap beside the still-panting Daniel. Jack turned over onto his back, until he could turn his head and see the other man, finally. “What the _hell_ was that?”

One blue eye opened, then both of them, and Daniel fixed him with an unreadable look. He sat up abruptly, looming over Jack. “What do you think it was?” he shot back, all apparent patience and sweet reason.

“If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking.” Actually, some of the things he was thinking, he wasn’t sure he could say, wasn’t sure he could put into words even now.

“Oh, please – I couldn’t have hurt you.” Daniel didn’t even sound dismissive, he just sounded maddeningly certain. It didn’t apparently occur to him to make that a question, either.

Jack’s hands came up to scrub at his face, rubbing his eyes. “No. Maybe. I don’t know.”

“I don’t see any blood,” Daniel pointed out, and Jack gave him a look that he hoped conveyed his disbelief. “And you can’t tell me that you didn’t love it – you came as hard as I did. Your body doesn’t lie, Jack.”

Jack couldn’t look at him any longer, not at the calm, unconcerned face, and especially not at the cool blue eyes that lacked any compassion or empathy. He swung his legs off the bed, sitting up and turning his back to Daniel

“That isn’t what concerns me.” They were still new at this. It wasn’t always perfect. But usually… usually, Daniel tried harder. They both did. At least, they had, until recently. It was just one more thing, one more small thing. But there were a lot of little small things, lately, and a few really big things, and they all added up into something that Jack didn’t like.

He stood up, pulled his shirt back on, moving briskly to the end of the bed and reaching for his pants. He felt a twinge that told him yes, he’d be feeling the echo of this for a while. Good. He could use the reminder, because despite all of it – all the disturbing bits and pieces, and his instincts screaming at him – he still didn’t want to do it. He didn’t want to leave. But he knew it was the right decision.

“Then what is it that _does_ concern you, Jack? Please, explain it to me. Because I’m trying, but I don’t understand.”

Jack shoved his legs into the pants, not bothering with underwear, leaving the shirt unbuttoned. A shower could wait until he got home. He glanced at the bed, at Daniel sitting up, only half-visible in the light coming in the windows. For a moment, just a moment, Daniel’s face seemed earnest, entreating, heart-breakingly familiar. 

“Exactly, Daniel. _That’s_ what concerns me.”

That got an irritated, sharp shake of the head. Daniel closed his eyes, his chin dropping briefly; then they snapped open and pinned Jack with a hard look. “I don’t have time to play games, Jack.”

“No, you’re right. Neither do I.” Jack slipped his bare feet into his shoes, grabbed up his socks and his boxers. Then he slung the strap of the duffle-bag onto his shoulder. “I’ll see you around the SGC, Dr. Jackson.”

He made it into the hallway before he heard “Jack, wait!” called behind him. He didn’t break stride and he didn’t answer. 

In the living room, his hand on the knob of the front door, he saw Shifu standing in the middle of the room. Just standing there. Probably listening the whole damn time, now staring at him without expression.

“Well? You have anything to add?” Jack asked, not bothering to make his tone civil. He’d tried treating the kid like a kid, at the beginning. Trying to get through to Shifu was like trying to climb a glass wall, nothing to hold onto, to gain any purchase. “Some fortune-cookie saying of Oma’s appropriate to the occasion?”

“If you understand, things are just as they are,” Shifu told him solemnly. “If you do not understand, things are just as they are.”

“Yeah, that’s about what I figured,” said Jack. 

He opened the front door, walked out, and walked away.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to LiveJournal in June 2006; written for LJ user iamrosalita in the 2006 Jack/Daniel Ficathon. Prompt: _Jack and Daniel break up, angst; they can get back together, or not._
> 
> I was grateful to LJ users raqs and jenlev for their beta-ing and hand-holding at the time. This was the first _big_ fic I posted in the SG-1 fandom, and honestly, this kind of darkness and angst is pretty outside my wheelhouse.


End file.
